


Sleepless

by PeterT3



Category: Banana Bus Squad, Gay baby gang, gbg
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, it was like 3 am ok, let our boys be happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 00:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15084746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeterT3/pseuds/PeterT3
Summary: John can't seem to fall asleep. With his thoughts keeping him awake, the rain decides to tag along.





	Sleepless

 He rolled in bed, groaning. Eyes slowly opened to stare at the clock hanging on the wall. Squinting, he struggled to read it in the darkness of the bedroom. He could barely make out the time,  _ 2:38. _ He yanked the black cover over his head, shifting uncomfortably. He couldn’t just wake up and start the day-- it’d throw his mind off to hard. But his same mind refused to let him procrastinate his responsibilities.

 

Stubbornly, his legs flailed and kicked the blanket off of him. Lazily rolling around for a few seconds, he made his way to the edge of the bed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. He shook his head, long bleached hair falling from its stiff position to lay against his shoulders. The man let out a shaky yawn. 

 He grew silent again, sitting on the side of his mattress. A gentle rhythm to his breathing, rain tapped at his window, as if knocking to be invited inside. He tilted his head, closing his eyes to listen. The patter of rain seemed to match with the eerie silence of the dark room, hand-in-hand as the pair seemed to bring peace to his loud, buzzing mind.

 

 After minutes of stillness, he stood up from his spot on the bed to walk up to the window. He placed his hands on the windowsill, tapping fingers in a jagged attempt to match the beat of the rain. Glancing over, he ran his fingers over the leaves of a plant. Small, white flowers had been blooming at his fingertips, the innocence of the petals a contrast to the blood red of the polish on his nails. Jasmine. 

 

_ “It’s supposed to help you sleep and reduce anxiety,” he had said. _

_ “Are you sure?” _

_ “Well, I don’t know. I just sort of trust Google to know what’s up.” _

_   It had made him laugh. He always seemed to know how to make him laugh. _

_  He loved that about the younger. _

_ “Thank you,” he had replied, “I’ll try putting it on my windowsill, see if it’ll help.” _

_ “Hope it does. You’ve been worrying me a bit, John.” _

 

He frowned. His hand moved away from the plant, returning to tap at the wood of the sill.  _ You’ve been worrying me a bit, John _ . He thought he knew what he meant. What  _ did _ he mean? There wasn’t a need to worry, he always thought. He didn’t think he was important enough for that. He knew he wasn’t.

 Eventually he clicked open the window latch and slid it open, a cool spring breeze immediately invading, brushing past to hold his hand and run down his arms. A few droplets of rain welcomed him, and his lips curled into the faintest smile. Calm. 

 

Returning to his place on the edge of the bed, he stared out the window dotted in raindrops at the dim street outside. The streetlamps hung their heads, their light shining through trees and casting strange orange shadows that danced on the pavement road. He hummed contently, tapping a socked foot on the wooden floor.

 

A soft knock interrupted the rain, his door creaking open. He glanced over to look at the face that peered in at him. “John?”

“Hm?”

“You alright?”

 The figure had moved into the room, closing the door and walking to sit next to him. John sighed before hesitantly shaking his head. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him into the body beside him. He melted into the embrace, resting his head against the other’s shoulder.

 

 “Did I wake you up?”

“No, I was awake editing when I heard your window open.”

“Oh. Sorry..”

“God, it’s not your fault this house has creaky-ass windows.”

“Still, I took you away from your work..”

 

 He felt a cheek press to the top of his head, nuzzling into his hair. “Don’t worry about it,” the other responded simply. “Are you okay?”

 John shook his head again and he was pulled closer to the figure beside him. Long arms wrapped around his curled up form, a soft breathing in his ear and brushing past his hair. The blond man traced circles on John’s bare arms. The soft movements of the fingertips made him shiver and lean further into the other.

“Cam..” John whispered. Cam hummed above him, a quiet response asking him to continue. “Do you worry about me?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Why?”

“Why not?”

 John grumbled, pressing his face into Cam’s chest. “Because you don’t need to.”

“I don’t need to?” Cam exclaimed, a confused look on his face. “What the fuck makes you think that I don’t need to worry about you?”

 John mumbled something into the sweatshirt Cam wore, fiddling with the hoodie strings. Cam asked him to repeat himself, and John huffed.

 

 “You have enough to stress about. You don’t need me making everything worse.”

The man above him let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, fuck you,” Cam muttered. Despite the words, John could hear the joking tone in his accent. “If you think I don’t care about you, then you’re wrong, man. You mean the world to me.”

 Cam sighed, frowning, when John pushed himself out of his grip, swinging his legs over and rolling onto the bed to lay down. 

 “John.”

The man was quiet, curling up, his knees tucking to his chest with his back towards Cam. Cam shifted, moving to sit cross-legged on the bedside. 

 

 “You’re beautiful, John,” Cam whispered. “You are. I know you pick yourself apart. You try to make yourself better but, in your eyes, nothing is working, and I know this, Johnny. But in my eyes, you don’t need to try to be amazing. Long hair looks best on you, I’ll say, bleached or not. Your eyes of whatever colour, when you laugh, they seem to shine. They  _ glow. _ Your damn laugh, too. Quiet giggles to huge fits of laughter that make my heart pound. Despite your dark sense of humour, you can be one of the kindest, softest people I’ve ever met and I love that about you. You have this sense, this vibe, that just makes me want to smile whenever you enter a room or I hear your voice. You’re an insanely lovely, loving person, John and I--”

Cam paused, his eyes going wide. He heard.. Sniffling. He glanced over his shoulder, at John, who was shaking. In a panic, Cam swung himself to crawl towards him across the bed, placing a gentle hand on John’s arm. 

 “John? John, look up at me.” 

He didn’t have time to see his face, as John leaped up, in a way throwing himself to wrap Cam in a hug. Cam fell onto the bed behind him, John landing on his chest, arms curled around his shoulders. John had his face nuzzled into Cam’s neck, and Cam awkwardly snaked his arms around his waist. In the dark room, he listened for a few minutes, whispering sweet nothings and hushing John as he cried into his shoulder.

 

“What the fuck did I do..” John whispered after a while. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Cam slowly shook his head, kissing the top of John’s. “I should be asking that.”

 John shifted in his arms, moving to sit up on Cam’s stomach, wiping tears from his eyes and pink cheeks. He looked down at Cam, the rain filling the silence growing in the room, and he smiled. Cam sat up slightly, leaning on his elbows to stare up at John. 

 

John glanced at the open window, the rain still tapping at the glass and the orange shadows still dancing out in the street. His jasmine plant still blossomed, giving off a faint scent that he could smell from across the room. He looked back down at the man under him. He fell forward, landing to be supported by his arms, each on either side of the blond’s head.

 

 At 3:07 in the morning, there they were, face-to-face in the darkness. Yet there was still enough light for the two to see each other. Cam’s breath became caught in his throat as he stared up at John, who, despite having reddish eyes and tear-stained cheeks, always tended to make his heart stop. Thoughts spiralled through his mind, and frantically, he nabbed one from the swarm.

 

 One of his arms swept itself out from under him, causing him to fall back against the bed. His hand moved to be placed on John’s cheek, pulling him forward. Their lips connected, and John’s eyes widened in shock. After a few moments, they closed and he returned the kiss, smiling against Cam’s lips.

 John pulled away eventually to catch his breath, letting his head rest against Cam’s neck. He let out a shaky laugh, pressing kisses to the smooth skin. 

 “I, uh..” John began, “I didn’t know you cared about me  _ that _ much.”

Cam laughed, wrapping one arm around John’s waist and letting his other hand run through John’s platinum hair.

 “I care about you a lot, Johnny. But sometimes in ways that might be too inappropriate.”

 “Jesus, Cam. We just kissed for the first time, slow your roll,” John giggled into his shoulder. He took in a deep breath. He didn’t know how he never noticed but Cam smelt of jasmine. 

 

“I should let you get back to work,” John said, moving up to press a kiss to Cam’s cheek.

“Nah,” Cam replied. “Who needs responsibilities when I have you?”

 

The two laid there, John eventually slipping off of Cam to just lay beside him, still wrapped up in a somewhat awkward hug. Yet they were comfortable, and the silence let them think. 

 “Cam?” John whispered after a while. Cam shifted his head to glance down at the man laying on his chest.

 “Yeah?”

 “...I think I love you.”

 “Oh, thank God,” Cam laughed out, letting his head fall back onto the bed. “I was worried I was alone on that.”

 “Hm,” John hummed. He moved to climb back over Cam, settling again on his stomach and leaning down so they were face-to-face again. “For a second there, I thought I’d need to say the same thing.”

 

 John closed the gap between them, connecting their lips again. Cam hummed, pulling John closer towards him. John’s hands felt their way up Cam’s arms, stopping to rest on the sides of his face. His lips were warm and soft, but his hands were cold, Cam noticed. When they separated, and their eyes opened, Cam stared into that aurora of blue, green and amber that looked back at him. They shone in the minimal amount of light that peered in from the open window, and the colours seemed to dance in curiosity and wonder.

 

 Cam sat up, shuffling to move to the top of the bed. He picked up John’s hand and pulled him over, motioning for him to lay down. Cam stood up as John got comfortable, reaching across the bed to pull the blanket over John. He was about to protest until Cam got under the covers with him. Cam protectively pulled John closer to him, letting John rest his head against his chest. 

 “Editing can wait until morning,” Cam said simply, placing his chin on the top of John’s head.


End file.
